Even Thistles Bloom, page 14
“You have dirt on your face.” Big Brody loomed in the stairwell, grinning at the charcoal smudge on Minh’s nose.
Minh shifted forward in her chair. “Yet I’m still more attractive than you.”
“Minh,” Cathryn whispered.
“At least my legs work.” Brody stepped out of the shadows, and Cathryn shrank into the corner. “Can you even have sex?”
“Yes,” Minh said, holding her ground, “but I’m not into pig-gorilla hybrids.”
“You little bitch on wheels.” Brody drew his fist back like an archer drawing a bow, but Todd lunged for him. He grabbed Brody’s arm and pulled him off balance.
“Get off me.” Brody shook loose of Todd’s grip.
“They’re sophomore girls, Brody. Leave them alone.”
Brody’s lips twisted into a sneer, revealing bits of his morning cupcake between his teeth.
“I thought you were on our side.”
“I’m not on the side that picks on people half their size.” Less than that. Minh and Cathryn combined wouldn’t come close to Brody’s weight.
Brody shook his head, but instead of responding, he punched Todd in the gut. Todd doubled over, and Brody shoved him across the hall. He hit the ground with a thud. Todd scrambled to his feet as Brody lunged for Minh, but Minh sprayed something, and the big guy screamed and scratched at his eyes.
“Bitch on wheels?” Minh grinned. “I like that. I’ll have to put it on a bumper sticker.”
“You pepper sprayed him?” Todd joined her in watching Brody writhe on the floor.
“No. I used a less irritating pepper spray alternative because I’m not allowed to carry real pepper spray until I’m sixteen, and I can’t get a stun gun until I’m eighteen.” Minh’s tone suggested she considered the prohibition as ridiculous as the law prohibiting crossing the Wisconsin border with a duck on your head. “If you’d stayed out of the fight, I’d have spared you a bruised rib.”
Todd grimaced as he probed his injury. He’d sport an ugly bruise.
“What happened?” The group turned as Principal Evans descended the stairs.
Oliver poked his head out of the classroom. “These students are corrupting the artistic environment with their negative vibes.”
Principal Evans gaped, as if wondering why the art teacher summoned him to the bowels of the school over negative vibes, but then he spotted Brody. The big teen curled himself into the fetal position, and Principal Evans targeted his gaze at Todd.
“I didn’t—he—it wasn’t my fault,” Todd said.
“Todd is right.” Cathryn extracted herself from the corner and stood beside Minh. “Brody was the aggressor. Todd was just trying to help.”
Principal Evans shifted his gaze from Todd to Brody and back. “When I said you should better yourself, this wasn’t what I meant.”
“I just took a punch. She’s the one who pepper sprayed him.” Todd pointed at Minh.
“Wow, Todd. Way to pass the blame to the damsel in distress.”
Todd snorted. “You don’t look distressed to me.”
“Enough,” Principal Evans said. “Minh, pepper spray is prohibited on school grounds.”
“Pepper spray alternative. I didn’t think Oliver would appreciate it if I set off my alarm and strobe light. Half the girls in school started carrying self-defense key chains after last year.” She glared at Todd as if to say, “This doesn’t redeem you.” Todd grimaced, but she returned her attention to the principal. “My dad filled out a ton of paperwork on the subject. I’m sure you’ll find it in Principal Gray’s records.”
“Principal Gray wasn’t the most organized with his paperwork.” Principal Evans’s tone suggested his predecessor wasn’t that organized about anything. “I’ll look into it. In the meantime, you three get to class. I’ll help Brody to the nurse’s office.”
“And keep your negative vibes away from my creative space.” Oliver shooed them. Todd could have sworn Principal Evans rolled his eyes as he hefted Brody to his feet.
Todd hustled through the halls, but by the time he reached economics, class was ending.
“I’m sorry I’m late, I—”
“Save it,” Claire said as she packed her things.
“Claire, I—”
“I don’t want to hear your llllies.” She joined her friends. Saafi gave him a disappointed head shake before she followed Claire out of the room.
The one time Todd had made the honorable choice, and Claire wouldn’t believe him. His bad luck plagued his whole day. Adam was who knew where at lunch, so he choked down the gray mush alone. He failed a pop quiz in civics, and the Gossip Girls wouldn’t stop pointing at him as they whispered.
Principal Evans never summoned him to the office, so he assumed he hadn’t earned detention for his role in the pepper spray incident. When the last bell rang, Todd headed straight for the old wing. Forget the smell. He needed a smoke.
The usual stoners cast shifty glances at him. Perhaps they’d already heard the report from the Gossip Girls. Not wanting to explain the rumors, Todd exited the building and headed to his other favorite smoke spot—a warm place by the brick wall.
Someone grabbed his jacket hood and yanked him back.
“That was a test.” Big Brody shoved him against the wall. His eyes were still bloodshot. “You failed.”
“What?” Even if Todd had been able to wiggle free, two guys he didn’t recognize appeared at Brody’s side. One of them had a large nose ring, like a bull.
“Adam said we could trust you,” Bull Guy’s companion said. His red sweatshirt was stained with something blue, like spilled sports drink.
“Adam told you to attack a girl in a wheelchair?” Even Adam wouldn’t stoop that low, would he?
“Adam told us to test you if we didn’t believe him,” Bull Guy said. “We did, and you failed.”
“Why—”
Big Brody punched his ribs. Todd kneed him in the groin and sidled out of his grip, but Bull Guy grabbed his arm and shoved him into the wall, knocking the wind out of him. Before Todd caught his breath, his assailant punched his gut, right where Brody had hit him earlier.
Todd landed a blow to the guy’s face, fist crunching through the cartilage in his nose, but by then Big Brody had recovered. He swung. Todd ducked, but the third guy lunged for him. He grabbed Todd by the hair and yanked. Todd kicked himself free, but Big Brody grabbed him from behind. He twisted Todd’s arm behind his back and held him still.
Bull Guy lay on the ground, clutching what remained of his nose after Todd’s punch pushed his piercing into it. Sweatshirt Guy smirked as he closed in. Todd was surprised not to see sharp teeth in that grin.
“Joey doesn’t play nice with guys that don’t follow orders.”
“If Joey sends lackeys after girls, he doesn’t deserve to give orders.” Never mind that Minh had won that exchange; Todd disapproved on principle. Wasn’t that what decent human beings did?
Sweatshirt Guy drew his arm back, but someone else’s fist crashed into his face. Todd took advantage of the distraction and bucked, breaking free of Brody’s grip. He whirled to find Maite had joined the fray. Shit. He couldn’t defeat four of them.
It took him a moment to realize Maite was fighting on his side. Bull Guy figured it out faster and returned to the fight. Todd pushed him away from Maite, and soon he and Claire’s friend were fighting back to back.
The guys may have bested them if Maite hadn’t had self-defense training. She knew where to hit, and she directed her blows with the precision of a surgeon. The smaller guys ran off first. Big Brody glared at Todd before following.
Todd would have collapsed with relief, but he didn’t want to appear weak in front of Maite. He still didn’t know why she’d helped.
“Thanks,” he said, hoping to draw out her motives.
Maite scrutinized her knuckles, perhaps trying to determine whether the blood was hers or Bull Guy’s.
“I hate fighting people with nose rings.”
“So why did you?” Todd said, too tired to be circumspect.
Maite pulled her water bottle from her backpack and rinsed her hand. “Betty’s sister said you will need help.”
“Betty’s sister?” Beth. “Oh, you mean Minh?”
Maite nodded. “She said something about you taking off your flip-flops?” She looked at Todd’s sneakers.
“I think she meant I’m one of the good guys now.”
“Oh. English is weird.”
“I guess so.” Todd ran a hand through his hair, wincing as he passed over a newly formed lump. “Thanks.” This was unfamiliar territory. He didn’t know how to behave when Maite wasn’t threatening him.
Maite dried her hand on her shirt, scowling as blood sprang from a scrape. She gave Todd a long look.
“Is true—is it true? What Minh said about your shoes?”
It took Todd a moment to realize she was referring to his flip-flopping. He considered his answer, knowing she’d search it for falsehood.
“I’m trying.”
Maite scrutinized him even more thoroughly than she had her hand. Todd didn’t know whether to revise his answer or run, but Maite spoke before he decided.
“Abuela has pre-made bouquets for procrastinators.” She struggled to pronounce the last word.
“Huh?”
“Clara likes flowers.” She strode away, as if that answered his question. Belatedly, Todd realized it did. Maite had just given him the way back into Claire’s good graces.
Chapter 21
Todd held the bouquet close as he hopped off the bus. He’d waited all night to confront his brother about yesterday’s “test,” but Adam hadn’t returned home. Todd decided to sacrifice his art class study session in favor of catching a few hours of sleep, but his thoughts spiraled out of control. Unable to rest, he’d made an early trek to Flores de Fernanda instead.
He stifled a yawn as he entered art class, only ten minutes late despite his detour. With his luck, he’d end up sleeping through economics. I’m sure Claire will appreciate that.
Cathryn grimaced as he took his seat. “If you’re trying to impress Claire, you may want to cover that bruise.”
Todd touched what had been a lump on his temple yesterday. Must be a bruise today.
Cathryn pulled her makeup from her purse and gestured for him to scoot closer, but Todd balked.
“Men don’t wear makeup.”
“They do if they don’t want to frighten the womenfolk.” Minh held out her hand. “Loan me a flower, will you? I’ll make it into art.”
Todd examined the mix of yellow roses, white lilies, and a red bloom whose name he couldn’t pronounce. I suppose I can spare one. He handed a small rose to Minh.
“Aren’t you going to ask about the flowers?”
Minh’s expression said, “Duh.” “I assume they’re for Claire, unless my mad pepper spray skills earned me a not-so-secret admirer in the senior class.”
“No, you’re right.” Todd allowed Cathryn to make over his bruise, figuring no one would notice makeup on his temple. He watched as Minh dusted the rose with gold and used it to dot patterns on her paper. “Thanks, by the way.”
“For?” She snipped off a piece of the stem, rolled it in a blue powder, and rolled that over her paper.
“For sending Maite to help me yesterday. How did you know they’d come after me?”
“How didn’t you?”
Todd blinked. She had a point. Wasn’t he the “tough guy?” He’d participated in all of Adam’s schemes. He should have expected trouble, but he hadn’t predicted Adam’s betrayal. Todd had always been a loyal sibling, trotting after Adam even when he walked straight into a fight. How could his brother have sent those guys after him?
Todd pushed aside his discomfort. He didn’t mind engaging in legally questionable activities, but he wouldn’t—couldn’t—follow Adam if he attacked defenseless innocents. His cowardice in last year’s incident with Saafi still haunted him, but he’d taken off his flip-flops, as Maite had put it. Adam must have an explanation. Otherwise…Todd would handle that later. For now, he’d focus on winning Claire back.
Todd spent the rest of art composing his apology to Claire. After Oliver dismissed the class, he shot out the door, forgetting to collect the loaned rose back from Minh.
The Gossip Girls, who were loitering outside the door to economics, chittered when they spotted him with the bouquet, but Todd marched straight to Claire’s desk.
She sniffed the flowers, eyes full of suspicion. “A p-procrastination bouquet?”
“Actually, no. Maite’s grandma said her pre-made ones weren’t right for you, something about red roses being too strong and…there’s a lot of symbolism to flowers.”
Todd practically lived in the greenhouse, but floral art was a whole other world. Ms. Rojas had gushed about color balancing and complementary symbols. Todd hadn’t understood a word, but the bouquet was beautiful. At least, it must be, because Claire hadn’t tried to strangle him.
“Minh says you helped yesterday.” Claire glanced at Beth, who nodded. Judging by Beth’s expression, this wasn’t the first time Claire had sought confirmation on the matter.
“Really? Because she told me I should have let her handle everything.”
Beth chuckled. “Sounds like her.” Her face sobered. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but thanks for looking out for her.”
Todd couldn’t remember the last time someone other than Noah thanked him. Part of him wanted to congratulate himself, but his rational side recognized the truth.
“It’s like I said before. You don’t have to worry about her. She can take care of herself.”
Beth seemed about to respond to that, but Saafi cleared her throat. “Maybe we should work on our project and let Todd finish his apology.”
“Right,” Beth said. She scooted closer to Saafi, but neither pulled out their notebooks. They snuck glances at Claire and Todd.
“Subtle, guys,” Claire said. She sniffed the bouquet. “About that apology?”
“Right. Uh, I’m sorry for what I said the other day. I was just trying to get Adam off my back.”
“D-did it help?”
“It’s a work in progress.” Todd winced as his fidgeting twinged a bruise, suddenly grateful Cathryn had covered the one on his face. “Do you accept my apology?”
Claire stuck her face right against the flowers and inhaled. “It’s a work in progress.”
“Okay, then—”
The bell rang, and Todd’s heart sank. He thought he’d have more time.
“Mr. Pohl’s room,” Claire said.
“Huh?”
“The guy who used to teach honors English? Mosaic is meeting in his room this week. Bring ssssomething cool.”
Todd ought to feel thankful she didn’t stuff the bouquet in the trash, but he couldn’t help thinking girls were too much work. He brainstormed all afternoon, but what was he supposed to bring to represent his family culture? A box of condoms? His weed stash? I’m sure Claire will love that.
He was almost at his front door when his phone buzzed.
Adam: Where are you?
Todd texted Busy and bypassed his house in favor of the greenhouse. He wasn’t sure he could confront his brother without punching him. Why would Adam have approved that attack?
Fifi greeted him, chewing on the new toy Todd had made. His bruises complained as he crouched, but Fifi’s happy kisses made the effort worthwhile. At least someone was always happy to see him. Why can’t people be more like dogs?
He stood, surprised to notice someone had rearranged the planters. Mrs. Thompson sat in a reclining chair in one corner, reading while Noah worked. She spotted Todd and grinned.
“I decided if I must spend so many hours sitting, I may as well rest among the plants I love.”
Todd grinned. He understood completely.
She pointed to a nearby folding chair. “Come chat with me before my son puts you to work.”
Todd gingerly lowered himself onto the chair, earning a quizzical look from Mrs. Thompson.
“You okay?”
Todd grimaced. “School is complicated.”
“Anything I can do to help?”
Todd thought of his brother, Joey and his minions, Claire and her friends…What should he bring to Mosaic?
“Could you help me invent a new family history? I have to bring something that represents my culture.”
Mrs. Thompson wrinkled her nose. Todd and Adam had never explicitly discussed their family life, but she’d had enough interactions with their mother to get the gist.
She pulled her walker in front of her chair. “Follow me.”
She wobbled as she walked. Todd followed, arms outstretched to catch her if she fell. She navigated into the house with painful slowness, which may have been safer, but it only made Todd more nervous. He wanted her safely seated, now.
Transitioning from the kitchen tile to the living room carpet proved treacherous. Her walker hitched on the threshold, but she made it through. Todd breathed a sigh of relief as she settled into the soft chair.
She held out a pretty pot to him. “Take this.”
Todd examined the small plant. It must be a perennial overwintering in the rosette stage of growth—small stem, six to eight leaves. Todd didn’t recognize it from the greenhouse inventory.
“What is it?”
“A thistle.”
Todd snorted, but Mrs. Thompson’s gaze was serious.
“The thistle has served as an important symbol in Scottish heraldry for over five hundred years.”
“You’re Scottish?” She didn’t speak with an accent.
Mrs. Thompson nodded. “My parents came to this country before I was born, but I’ve always liked thistles. They’re tough.”
Todd regarded the plant. It survived in harsh climates by defending itself with prickly spines, but it still attained some nobility, at least among the Scots. He felt a strange sense of kinship with the plant.
“You’re sure I can take this?”
Mrs. Thompson nodded. “Keep it. I have another in my bedroom.”
